Diè la torre, a quel moto, uno e duo’ crolli:
656 Tremar le mura, e rimbombaro i colli.
LXXXII
As an old rock, which age or stormy wind
Tears from some craggy hill or mountain steep,
Doth break, doth bruise, and into dust doth grind
Woods, houses, hamlets, herds, and folds of sheep,
So fell the beam, and down with it all kind
Of arms, of weapons, and of men did sweep,
Wherewith the towers once or twice did shake,
Trembled the walls, the hills and mountains quake.
LXXXII
As an enormous boulder that decay
Has loosed, or wind uprooted from some mount,
Comes crashing down, and with it sweeps away
Woods, cattle, cots; so from the frowning front
Of the high wall o’erwhelmed the horrid block
Arms, soldiers, merlons, as down, down it bounded!
Once, twice the turret trembled at the shock:
The ramparts quaked, the echoing hills resounded.
LXXXIII.
Passa il Buglion vittorioso avanti,
E già le mura d’occupar si crede;
Ma fiamme allora fetide e fumanti
660 Lanciarsi incontra immantinente ei vede.
Nè dal sulfureo sen fochi mai tanti
Il cavernoso Mongibel fuor diede:
Nè mai cotanti, negli estivi ardori,
664 Piove l’Indico Ciel caldi vapori.
LXXXIII
Victorious Godfrey boldly forward came,
And had great hope even then the place to win;
But lo, a fire, with stench, with smoke and flame
Withstood his passage, stopped his entrance in:
Such burning Aetna yet could never frame,
When from her entrails hot her fires begin,
Nor yet in summer on the Indian plain,
Such vapors warm from scorching air down rain.
LXXXIII
Godfred pushed on triumphantly ahead,
Already deeming that the walls were won;
But felt, as on his followers he led,
Right in his face dense fetid fireballs thrown;
Ne’er from cavernous Mongibello rise
Such torrents of sulphureous lava; ne’er
Such reeking vapours rain from Indian skies
When summer heats inflame the arid air.
LXXXIV.
Quì vasi, e cerchj, ed aste ardenti sono:
Qual fiamma nera, e qual sanguigna splende.
L’odore appuzza, assorda il rombo e ‘l tuono,
668 Accieca il fumo, il foco arde e s’apprende.
L’umido cuojo alfin saria mal buono
Schermo alla torre: appena or la difende.
Già suda, e si rincrespa, e se più tarda
672 Il soccorso del Ciel, convien pur ch’arda.
LXXXIV
There balls of wildfire, there fly burning spears,
This flame was black, that blue, this red as blood;
Stench well-nigh choked them, noise deafs their ears,
Smoke blinds their eyes, fire kindleth on the wood;
Nor those raw hides which for defence it wears
Could save the tower, in such distress it stood;
For now they wrinkle, now it sweats and fries,
Now burns, unless some help come down from skies.
LXXXIV
Alive with fire are vases, hoops, and spears,
These lurid black, these bright and bloody red;
Smoke blinds their eyes, the whizzing stuns their ears,
The stench is poisonous, the flames catch and spread.
The moistened hides will prove but poor defence
To save the tower: small aid they render — see!
They sweat, they shrivel; and if Providence
His help delay, all must consumèd be.
LXXXV.
Il magnanimo Duce innanzi a tutti
Stassi, e non muta nè color nè loco:
E quei conforta che su’ cuoj asciutti
676 Versan l’onde apprestate incontra al foco.
In tale stato eran costor ridutti:
E già dell’acque rimanea lor poco.
Quando ecco un vento, ch’improvviso spira,
680 Contra gli autori suoi l’incendio gira.
LXXXV
The hardy duke before his folk abides,
Nor changed he color, countenance or place,
But comforts those that from the scaldered hides
With water strove the approaching flames to chase:
In these extremes the prince and those he guides
Half roasted stood before fierce Vulcan’s face,
When lo, a sudden and unlooked-for blast
The flames against the kindlers backward cast:
LXXXV
The noble leader, all his troops before,
Stood without change of colour or of place,
Cheering them on the crackling skins to pour
Water, provided against such a case.
Such sad condition were they brought down to,
That even now of water there was lack,
When, lo! a wind, that of a sudden blew,
Against its authors drove the wild fire back.
LXXXVI.
Vien contro al foco il turbo, e indietro volto
Il foco, ove i Pagan le tele alzaro,
Quella molle materia in se raccolto
684 L’ha immantinente, e n’arde ogni riparo.
O glorioso Capitano, o molto
Dal gran Dio custodito, al gran Dio caro!
A te guerreggia il Cielo: ed ubbidienti
688 Vengon chiamati, a suon di trombe, i venti.
LXXXVI
The winds drove back the fire, where heaped lie
The Pagans’ weapons, where their engines were,
Which kindling quickly in that substance dry,
Burnt all their store and all their warlike gear:
O glorious captain! whom the Lord from high
Defends, whom God preserves, and holds so dear;
For thee heaven fights, to thee the winds, from far,
Called with thy trumpet’s blast, obedient are!
LXXXVI
The whirlwind blew against the fire, which turned
Back on the soft materials which the Turks
Hung from the walls; soon caught they were and burned,
Depriving thus of all defence their works.
Oh, glorious captain! whom the Almighty Lord
Protecteth so, and so esteemeth dear,
For thee unsheathed is Heaven’s immortal sword,
Thy trumpet’s call the obedient breezes hear.
LXXXVII.
Ma l’empio Ismen, che le sulfuree faci
Vide da Borea incontra se converse,
Ritentar volle l’arti sue fallaci
692 Per sforzar la natura, e l’aure avverse:
E fra due maghe, che di lui seguaci
Si fer, sul muro agli occhj altrui s’offerse:
E torvo, e nero, e squallido, e barbuto
696 Fra due Furie parea Caronte, o Pluto.
LXXXVII
But wicked Ismen to his harm that saw
How the fierce blast drove back the fire and flame,
By art would nature change, and thence withdraw
Those noisome winds, else calm and still the same;
‘Twixt two false wizards without fear or awe
Upon the walls in open sight he came,
Black, grisly, loathsome, grim and ugly faced,
Like Pluto old, betwixt two furies placed;
LXXXVII
But impious Ismene, who beheld the breeze
Against himself drive back the sulphurous rain,
Resolved once more to try his sorceries
The adverse wind and nature to constrain.
So, ‘twixt two witches that att
ended him,
He showed himself upon the walls; his beard
Was foul, and he so squalid was and grim,
That Pluto ‘twixt two Furies he appeared.
LXXXVIII.
Già il mormorar s’udia delle parole
Di cui teme Cocíto, e Flegetonte:
Già si vedea l’aria turbare, e ‘l Sole
700 Cinger d’oscuri nuvoli la fronte;
Quando avventato fu dall’alta mole
Un gran sasso, che fu parte d’un monte:
E tra lor colse sì, ch’una percossa
704 Sparse di tutti insieme il sangue e l’ossa.
LXXXVIII
And now the wretch those dreadful words begun,
Which trouble make deep hell and all her flock,
Now trembled is the air, the golden sun
His fearful beams in clouds did close and lock,
When from the tower, which Ismen could not shun,
Out fled a mighty stone, late half a rock,
Which light so just upon the wizards three,
That driven to dust their bones and bodies be.
LXXXVIII
To mutter those dread words he had begun
So feared by Styx and Phlegethon; and now
The air became unsettled, and the sun
With clouds obscure begirt his radiant brow,
When there was launched forth an enormous rock,
Part of a mountain, from the tower of wood,
Which caught them in such manner that the stroke
Made of the three one mass of bones and blood.
LXXXIX.
In pezzi minutissimi e sanguigni
Si disperser così le inique teste;
Che di sotto ai pesanti aspri macigni
708 Soglion poco le biade uscir più peste.
Lasciar, gemendo, i tre spirti maligni
L’aria serena, e ‘l bel raggio celeste:
E sen fuggir tra l’ombre empie infernali.
712 Apprendete pietà quinci, o mortali.
LXXXIX
To less than naught their members old were torn,
And shivered were their heads to pieces small,
As small as are the bruised grains of corn
When from the mill dissolved to meal they fall;
Their damned souls, to deepest hell down borne
Far from the joy and light celestial,
The furies plunged in the infernal lake:
O mankind, at their ends ensample take!
LXXXIX
Into such small and bloody bits were smashed
Their impious heads, so broken all their bones,
That com was never more completely mashed
Beneath the weight of the revolving stones;
With many a curse and groan the spirits fell,
Left the serene and sunshine of the sky,
And howling fled to the black shades of hell.
Hence learn, presumptuous mortals! piety.
XC.
In questo mezzo alla Città la torre,
Cui dall’incendio il turbine assicura,
S’avvicina così, che può ben porre
716 E fermare il suo ponte in su le mura;
Ma Solimano intrepido v’accorre,
E ‘l passo angusto di tagliar procura:
E doppia i colpi, e ben l’avria reciso;
720 Ma un’altra torre apparse all’improvviso.
XC
This while the engine which the tempest cold
Had saved from burning with his friendly blast,
Approached had so near the battered hold
That on the walls her bridge at ease she cast:
But Solyman ran thither fierce and bold,
To cut the plank whereon the Christians passed.
And had performed his will, save that upreared
High in the skies a turret new appeared;
XC
Meanwhile the turret, which the friendly squall
Saved from the flames, approached the town so near,
That it was able on the embattled wall
To place and firmly fix its bridge; but there
Like lightning rushed intrepid Solyman:
To cut it down redoubled were his blows,
And sure the narrow pass he had cut down,
But that another tower before him rose.
XCI.
La gran mole crescente oltra i confini
De’ più alti edifizj in aria passa.
Attoniti a quel mostro i Saracini
724 Restar, vedendo la Città più bassa.
Ma il fero Turco, ancor che’n lui ruini
Di pietre un nembo, il loco suo non lassa:
Nè di tagliare il ponte anco diffida,
728 E gli altri che temean rincora, e sgrida.
XCI
Far in the air up clomb the fortress tall,
Higher than house, than steeple, church or tower;
The Pagans trembled to behold the wall
And city subject to her shot and power;
Yet kept the Turk his stand, though on him fall
Of stones and darts a sharp and deadly shower,
And still to cut the bridge he hopes and strives,
And those that fear with cheerful speech revives.
XCI
The mighty mass increasing past the height
Of highest fabrics, shot into the air.
The Saracens at the portentous sight
Of Salem lower, panic-stricken were;
But tho’ on him the stones fell thick and hard,
The fiery Turk would not desert his post,
Nor to cut down the fatal bridge despaired,
And chid and cheered the cowards of the host.
XCII.
S’offerse agli occhj di Goffredo allora,
Invisibile altrui, l’Angel Michele
Cinto d’armi celesti: e vinto fora
732 Il Sol da lui, cui nulla nube vele.
Ecco, disse, Goffredo, è giunta l’ora
Ch’esca Sion di servitù crudele.
Non chinar, non chinar gli occhj smarriti:
736 Mira con quante forze il Ciel t’aiti.
XCII
The angel Michael, to all the rest
Unseen, appeared before Godfredo’s eyes,
In pure and heavenly armor richly dressed,
Brighter than Titan’s rays in clearest skies;
“Godfrey,” quoth he, “this is the moment blest
To free this town that long in bondage lies,
See, see what legions in thine aid I bring,
For Heaven assists thee, and Heaven’s glorious King:
XCII
The Archangel Michael, visible to none,
Appearèd then before Prince Godfred’s sight,
Clad in such glistering armour, that the sun,
Altho’ unclouded, had appeared less bright.
‘The hour has come, O pious prince,’ he cries,
‘From her fell yoke Jerusalem to free;
Droop not, nay, droop not thy bedazzled eyes:
See with what forces Heaven assisteth thee.
XCIII.
Drizza pur gli occhj a riguardar l’immenso
Esercito immortal ch’è in aria accolto:
Ch’io dinanzi torrotti il nuvol denso
740 Di vostra umanità, ch’intorno avvolto
Adombrando t’appanna il mortal senso,
Sì che vedrai gl’ignudi spirti in volto:
E sostener per breve spazio i rai
744 Delle angeliche forme anco potrai.
XCIII
“Lift up thine eyes, and in the air behold
The sacred armies, how they mustered be,
That cloud of flesh in which for times of old
All mankind wrapped is, I take from thee,
And from thy senses their thick mist unfold,
That face to face thou mayest these spirits see,
And for a little space right w
ell sustain
Their glorious light and view those angels plain.
XCIII
‘Lift up thine eyes, then, and behold the immense
Immortal host assembled in the sky,
While the thick clouds that dim thy mortal sense,
And overshadow thy humanity,
I will asunder rend, that thou mayst there
Regard unbodied spirits face to face,
And the divine effulgent radiance bear,
Of angels’ beauty for a little space.
XCIV.
Mira di quei che fur campion di Cristo,
L’anime fatte in Cielo or cittadine,
Che pugnan teco, e di sì alto acquisto
748 Si trovan teco al glorioso fine.
Là ‘ve ondeggiar la polve, e ‘l fumo misto
Vedi, e di rotte moli alte ruine;
Tra quella folta nebbia Ugon combatte,
752 E delle torri i fondamenti abbatte.
XCIV
“Behold the souls of every lord and knight
That late bore arms and died for Christ’s dear sake,
How on thy side against this town they fight,
And of thy joy and conquest will partake:
There where the dust and smoke blind all men’s sight,
Where stones and ruins such an heap do make,
There Hugo fights, in thickest cloud imbarred,
And undermines that bulwark’s groundwork hard.
XCIV
‘Behold you spirits that Christ’s champions were,
Now blest immortal tenants of the skies,
Combat with thee, with thee still seek to share
The crowning honour of the great emprise;
Lo, where the dust with wreaths of smoke unites,
And o’er the crumbling ruin darkly lowers;
In that dense cloud the gallant Hugo fights,
And shaketh the foundations of the towers.
XCV.
Ecco poi là Dudon che l’alta porta
Aquilonar con ferro e fiamma assale:
Ministra l’arme ai combattenti, esorta
756 Ch’altri su monti, e drizza, e tien le scale.
Quel ch’è sul colle, e ‘l sacro abito porta,
E la corona ai crin sacerdotale,
È il pastore Ademaro, alma felice:
760 Vedi ch’ancor vi segna, e benedice.
XCV
“See Dudon yonder, who with sword and fire
Assails and helps to scale the northern port,
That with bold courage doth thy folk inspire
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